Soul Mates
by Shakespeare's Lady
Summary: Not even time itself could separate these soul mates. Ichabbie. Rated M just in case things get out of hand.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N**: Okay, here is my take on Sleepy Hollow fan fiction. I will warn you now, I am an Ichabbie so if you do not like that, do not read any further.

Disclaimer: I do not own or work for Sleepy Hollow. This fan fic is mine, but the characters are not.

* * *

He sat down slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. A bottle of Jameson Irish Whiskey sat in front of him. He poured a glass, mesmerized by the color of the liquid. It poured slowly. After nearly reaching the brim of the glass, he put the bottle down and screwed the top back on. He stared at the amber-colored liquid for a few moments before bringing the glass to his lips. He inhaled deeply, letting the scent set his nose on fire. He allowed the burn as it made its way down his throat.

_I deserve this._

He felt he deserved the burn that now encased his entire body from the inside. He had been such an ass to her. All she wanted to do was help and he didn't want to accept that help. He was stubborn; always had been. Things were so new to him, having awakened 250 years after he had died. This was not his country anymore; not even his home. While he was intrigued with how different life was now, he was also saddened that everything _was_ different. The freedom he had fought so hard for was still present, but it came at a price. A heavy one.

He was also confused. Confused about his feelings. He loved Katrina; always would. But recently, he acknowledged he had developed feelings for someone else. As he took another sip of the whiskey, he closed his eyes. There, he saw a pair of chocolate-brown eyes staring back at him. Those eyes were conflicted. She was trying to hide her feelings as well. He rubbed his closed eyes to eliminate the image before him. It was useless. Her beautiful eyes stared back at him and he was frozen.

_Abbie._

He had no idea where she was now. After quarreling, she had stormed out of the cabin. He called her several times, but only got her voicemail. He hated himself for how he left things. All he wanted was a night off from the craziness; a night off from the Hessian. And instead, he may have severed his friendship with her.

He also felt guilty. He realized his feelings for Abbie awhile ago, but had only recently admitted it to himself. Jealousy played a role in their quarrel as well, as Abbie was going to meet an ex-boyfriend for drinks. It was that jealousy that made him admit that Abbie meant more to him than just a friend and companion. And instantly, he felt guilty for betraying Katrina.

But had he? Katrina was dead, as much as he hated to admit that fact. He had actually died first and then she did. She had planned it that he would return someday, but without her. Even after 250 years, he still loved Katrina. But now he had been given a second chance and he felt himself caring for another woman.

_Is it possible to love more than one person at a time?_

He didn't know. All he knew was that his feelings for Abbie were real. And they were strong. _Could _he love again? _Could _it even work? They were opposites in every way. He was over 250 years old, she was thirty, tops. He was from a different time; she was from the modern times. He was a soldier, she was a police officer. They both clashed in their personalities a lot as well. She drove him crazy and he tested her patience every day.

The color of her skin did not matter to him; he fought for emancipation. He was thrilled when she told him they had been free for 150 years, although that was later than he had hoped. He had noticed that color did not matter in modern times, as he saw plenty of interracial couples in and around Sleepy Hollow. He smiled at that. In his day, they would both be burned at the stake.

_Yet, there were bastard children running around._

He shook his head at some of the hypocrisy of his time. They fought for freedom, but only for some people. Women were not considered "people," though he thought of Katrina as one. Those of different skin tones were kept as slaves and although some were treated well, others were not.

_I can't imagine Abbie in that time. She fits here, in the modern world. She is perfect here._

He slowly opened his eyes and stared in front of him, not seeing anything but her. She had consumed him without either of them knowing it. He had given his heart to Katrina, but now found that Abbie possessed it. He couldn't believe what had happened.

Ichabod recalled the times that they had touched, innocent though they were. He once held her hand and stroked the top of her knuckles and later that same night, hugged her tightly. His skin had been on fire, a sure sign that he was in love, but he denied that. There were nights in the police station and nights at the cabin when they would place a hand on a shoulder or another hand, or even just accidentally brush skin against skin. Every time that happened, Ichabod's body burned for more.

He also knew he wanted her…intimately. Even though he had lived in a time where that was not discussed and one would not see another person undressed until the wedding night, the modern era of promiscuity was beginning to rub off on him. He was experiencing things that he had never experienced before, not even with Katrina.

The first time he realized this was at a baseball game.

She loved baseball and he accompanied her a few times for his amusement. She really got into it and it was fun to sit in the sun and relax a bit.

That day, Abbie was wearing a shirt described as a gray tee-shirt which was tight around her bosom. It was not that low cut, but enough cleavage showed to produce the desired effect. In the eighteenth century, plenty of women showed some of their busts due to the fashion of the time, but this was different. He noticed how they bounced when she walked, how the sun glinted off them and how beautiful they were…so perfect for her.

He also noticed the tightening in his trousers.

Trying to calm himself, he commented about her yelling at the umpire and was given a lesson in baseball etiquette. The test worked and he felt the urge to yell at the umpire himself.

"Nice job. Next time, wait until there is a play," she said with a laugh.

He turned to face her and caught the glint of the sun on her breasts again. Immediately, he sat back down.

_I am SO screwed, to use a modern term._

As though fate did not torture him enough, he saw the fight that he had just had with Abbie. He began wondering what he could have done differently, what he could have done to have made her stay.

"_Abbie, you can't meet up with an ex-boyfriend unchaperoned," he said plainly._

_She raised an eyebrow at him, as though in challenge. "Can't? Why not, Ichabod?"_

"_It's indecent."_

_This time, she rolled her eyes. "Hello! Welcome to the twenty-first century, old man. Things are a bit different than when you were here before."_

_He nodded. "I gathered that."_

They had commented like that for awhile, before his jealousy had gotten the better of him. The inside was screaming to tell her how he felt, but the calm, reserved outside overruled any emotion.

"_If you are going to be insolent, then just go!" he shouted, turning away from her._

"_Insolent? You call ME insolent?" she fired back. "Look at you. You refuse to accept anything modern and don't follow modern ways. YOU'RE the one who is insolent, Ichabod. And I can't be around you right now. Good bye."_

_She made it to the door before he called for her, back still turned from her._

"_Abbie."_

_His answer was a door slam._

Ichabod shook his head and stared down at his glass. Somehow, he had managed to drain the glass without even realizing it. His head started spinning and he knew he needed to lie down.

Picking up his phone again, he dialed Abbie one more time.

Voicemail.

_Damn!_

He sighed. "Abbie, it's Ichabod. Look, I know you are upset with me and you have every right to be, but I want to apologize to you. I would prefer to not do it over the telephone, but I will if I must. _Please_ call me when you get this, if for no other reason than to let me know that you are okay."

He ended the call after pushing the wrong button several times and muttering under this breath. Then he walked slowly to the bedroom. Too tired and drunk to change out of his clothes, he simply removed his boots and laid back on the bed. He grabbed the afghan and pulled it over him for warmth. As soon as his head hit the pillow, he was out.

His dreams were filled with her, with the adventures that they had been on together. He remembered in his sleep about the first time he realized he loved her. He had arrived at the station and was walking over to her. She was on the phone, but glanced up through her eyelashes at him. The movement was so sweet and innocent and welcoming, he felt his heart surge.

And then he knew.

But he didn't want to admit it, for fear of hurting Katrina. She was still in purgatory; he could still get to her. He couldn't be involved with another woman when that possibility was still out there.

His dreams shifted. He saw Abbie slowly floating away from him. He reached for her, called out her name in an echo. She did not reply, only continued to float away. He began running after her, determined to catch her, but he never did. Soon, she completely faded from him.

He stopped running and stood aghast, breathing heavily. She was gone. He couldn't believe it. And the pain he felt was more intense than anything before. He knew he had to apologize, had to tell her how he felt. Although it might not be reciprocated, he needed her to know.

He turned around to head back to the cabin when a figure appeared before him. He jumped at the sight because he was not expecting anyone to be there. He jumped again when he saw who it was, fear creeping into every pore of his body.

Katrina.

* * *

**A/N:** Any thoughts on how the relationship will play out on TV, if it does? I think they'll go by way of The X-Files; just give the fans a bit at a time to keep us coming back and then after a few seasons have a relationship start. But of course, it won't be easy as Katrina will be there, or at least in purgatory.

Thanks for reading! I would love to hear your thoughts on this so far. Not sure how many chapters it will be yet.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Thank you to everyone who liked the first chapter. I am glad to see many Ichabbie supporters out there.

This story will pretty much be told from Ichabod's point of view, but I thought this was necessary to set up the rest of the story.

Enjoy!

* * *

Every muscle in Abbie's body ached. She didn't know how long she had been here, in this abandoned building, but she knew it was awhile. Her muscles were past the screaming in pain stage, now it was just a dull ache. She figured she had been here two days at the minimum.

She yanked on the chain that bound her wrists above her head and looked up at them. They looked primitive, as though from Crane's time and she yanked them again. Nothing happened. She let out a sigh and closed her eyes.

_Is this the end?_

She couldn't believe that she allowed herself to be taken. Her fight with Crane had really messed her head up. While they were arguing about her meeting up with Morales, it took everything she had to not tell him how she really felt.

Abbie knew it wouldn't do any good. He was still in love with his wife and she was trapped in purgatory. Once released, they would go off and live happily ever after. Abbie had told herself to not get involved so she wouldn't get hurt.

_That damn Brit got under my skin without even knowing it._

The first time she realized her attraction for him was when she saw him shirtless. They were about to meet the Sandman and had both removed their shirts while waiting for scorpions to bite them. She tried not to be too obvious about it, but her eyes soaked in his body like a parched man receiving water.

_My God, he was FINE!_

Although she liked him in his eighteenth-century clothes, seeing his bare chest set her body on fire. She wanted to run her hands through the hair that appeared on his chest and lick that six pack of his until the cows came home. Every inch of what she saw was perfect and it consumed her thoughts that night.

It consumed her thoughts now, too, as she didn't have much else to do, lying in this empty room. She coughed slightly, the movement making the dull ache more pronounced. With her eyes still closed, her thoughts wandered where they shouldn't.

_When we were fighting, all I wanted to do was grab him and rip that damn old shirt off of him. Maybe I should have; I could have said that he needed to change into something modern. But he would have seen through me. He would have then seen the lust in my eyes and heard the beating of my heart. And then he would have calmly pushed me away and reminded me that he was still married to Katrina._

Abbie hated her.

She knew her hatred was unfounded, being that she had never met the woman and never would. But given that she still held the heart of a man 250 years later made her blood boil. He should be able to let go, to live in the present and love someone new.

_Me._

She shook her head and slowly opened her eyes. The sun was starting to set slowly. Abbie knew that the captain would have a search team out looking for her; she just needed to be patient. But how would he know to search an old, abandoned building without cause? That is what she was trying to figure out.

A portion of her shirt had been torn off and her jacket was discarded. One boot was missing and her hair was a matted mess. But other than that, she was fine. She wasn't physically injured nor had anyone tried violating her. That would have been the worst.

Her thoughts shifted to the night after her quarrel with Crane. She had stormed out, needing time away from him, and drove off. She drove to the center of town and left her vehicle there while she took a walk. The cool, evening air gently blew her black hair and she breathed in the fresh air. She stopped by the fountain and stared at it, not seeing anything.

She had been foolish, she realized, to let herself fall for Crane. It could never work; not even if she wanted it too. Besides him being still in love with Katrina, they were complete opposites. She liked bad boys, he was too stiff. She was tired of him always over-pronouncing things and being his annoying self. She wanted someone who could stand on his own two feet and be a man.

And yet, Crane was. Granted, he was completely out of his element now, but back in his century he fought in the Revolutionary War. He was a soldier. He knew what it was like to be a man, to protect a woman and to live and die by the sword. In a strange way, he _was_ the bad boy that she was attracted to so often.

_I'm so fucked._

Crane was more than that, though. He was a gentleman. He would take her hand or open a door for her and make her _feel_ like a woman. He respected her and the fact that she was a lieutenant. And his wanting to know everything about his new world _was_ a bit endearing and adorable.

If only a wife wasn't in the picture.

Abbie sat down on the stone bench near the fountain and looked around. Sleepy Hollow was quiet this evening. The breeze and the occasional animal running by were the only reminders that life was still here.

She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, enjoying the serene night. The moonlight glowed against her skin, making her look like an ebony goddess. She knew she would have to talk to Crane in the morning after she had gotten her emotions under control, but for now, she just wanted to enjoy the silence.

And then a hand clamped over her mouth.

She struggled against the weight of the person holding her, but it was no use. He was strong, incredibly strong, and picked her up like she was a feather. She kicked, grabbed and even tried biting the man who held her, but nothing worked. She reached for her gun in her holster and at that moment, she blacked out.

When she awoke, she was here in this building. The man who grabbed her was in the corner. The only thing she could see was that he wore a black cape that covered his head. He was reciting some prayer in a language that she did not recognize. She struggled against the chains that held her and he came over, kneeling down to look at her.

"Hello, Miss Mills."

Abbie could not recognize the voice; it was altered somehow. The only thing that she saw was a pair of green glowing eyes staring at her from the cape. It frightened her and she recoiled.

"Who are you? Where am I?"

The cloaked figure chuckled. "Inquisitive one, aren't you? Who I am is of no consequence my dear, but you are in the abandoned toy shopped outside of Sleepy Hollow. I assure you, no one will find you."

"My captain and the rest of the sheriff's department will!" Abbie struggled against the chains. She felt her skin chafing against the metal, but she didn't care.

"Oh, I don't think they'll look here. They have no reason to." The cloaked figure stood up and began to walk away. "And your British friend won't be any help either, I'm afraid."

At the mention of Ichabod, Abbie went nuclear. Her feelings were on full display. "What are you talking about? What have you done to Crane?"

The green eyes turned back to her, brighter than before. "Nothing yet. Provided he stays out of our way, he will not be harmed. But I know he has an extraordinary talent for getting into other people's affairs. In that case, your friend will have risen from the dead for nothing."

Abbie began trembling. She had to get to Crane, but didn't know what to do. This cloaked madman meant business and she had no idea how to get out of her situation.

_Think, Abbie!_

Her mind was racing a mile a minute trying to think of ways to escape when a door opened, casting a reddish light into the room. The setting sun was beautiful, but it looked ominous in her situation.

A man entered the dark room and spoke to the cloaked madman. She couldn't make out who it was or what they were speaking, but they both started to exit the room together.

She began hatching a plan on how she could get out of the shackles she was now in. She would wait a little longer and then roll up so her legs were touching the wall. Then she would yank until the metal got loose. She might break her wrists in the process, but it would be a small price to pay.

The second man stopped and came back into the room. He walked over to Abbie slowly, as though she was a snake about to strike. She held her breath as his figure approached. He reached into his pocket and pulled something out. She closed her eyes, expecting a knife to slit her throat.

Metal rattled and suddenly her weakened arms dropped. She was released from the shackles, but knew she wasn't free. There were guards everywhere and she had to get her energy back before she could leave. The man then wrapped a cloth over her mouth, gagging her and placing her gun at her temple.

"If you do not behave, you will be dead before you can say 'Ichabod Crane.' You got me?" She nodded in fear. He did not cover her eyes, which was his mistake. As he walked to the door, he looked back at her one more time.

And then she saw him.

_No! It CAN'T be!_

The man stepped over the threshold and closed the door, locking it behind him. Abbie sat in shock, trying desperately to comprehend what she had just seen, the man who threatened her life and Crane's as well.

Irving!

* * *

**A/N**: Dun, dun, DUN! I sincerely hope that no one will hate me for the twist on this story; I just thought it up. I have suspicions that Irving might be Moloch in disguise in the TV show, but for the most part, I don't think so.

Feel free to review and I hope you enjoy the rest of the story. There will eventually be a bit of romance between our two protagonists, but first Ichabod has to find her!

Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Thanks SO much for reading and replying to the last chapter. I am glad that you liked my little twist.

Enjoy!

* * *

"Katrina," Ichabod said, his voice echoing again.

She placed a finger on his lips to silence him. "We haven't much time, Ichabod." She spoke quietly. "I know about your feelings for Abigail Mills."

His shoulders slumped. "I am sorry, my love. I should not have them and I have been unfaithful to you."

She took his hands in hers. "Ichabod, you have done nothing of the sort. You died and I died. Technically, I am still dead. But you are alive, two-hundred-and-fifty years later. Of course you would find someone else. I planned it that way."

He looked into his dead wife's eyes and blinked. "What?"

She sighed and looked down at his feet. "When I placed the spell to bring you back, it was with the condition that I would not come back. I knew that doing so would make you fall in love with another, but I had seen her in one of my visions. I knew she was the one, Ichabod."

He gently placed a finger under her chin and lifted it slowly so she could look him in the eye. "What do you mean?" he whispered.

"You and Abigail Mills are soul mates, separated by time. The moment the Hessian slashed you, I saw her in my vision. I knew that she was the one who would heal you, but I knew that it wasn't for centuries. So I placed a spell that would have you come back to life when the time was right, when she needed you.

"I watched her grow up. Such a head-strong girl even then. I knew that she was the right fit for you and so I stood back, here in purgatory, and waited for you to meet. When you did, the spell I had put you under broke. The rest was up to you."

Ichabod drew back, shocked at what he had heard. Katrina _knew_ they were destined to be together, _knew_ they were one. He slowly shook his head.

"Our time together was precious and I will always cherish it, but you need to move on. I have given you this gift. I do hope you will take it."

She stroked the right side of his cheek with her hand.

"You do not need to feel guilty about your feelings for her, Ichabod. I saw them then and I see them now. I will always be in purgatory, my love; that is my punishment for my sins. That will not change. But you have been given another chance at life. A chance for love and a chance to have a family; one that was not cruelly ripped from you. Abigail Mills is the one, Ichabod. Take the chance I have given you. Love her and let her love you. It is destined; you _are_ soul mates."

Ichabod was silent for a moment, trying to take everything in. His wife had put a spell on him to save his life, but in the process promised him to another; a woman he would not meet for centuries. He did not know if this was insanity or true love.

"Love her, Ichabod. Love her as you loved me. You are released from me. I will no longer be in your dreams. Only she will be. You know what you have to do, so do it."

She stepped back, breaking him out of his trance. He reached for her.

"Katrina…" he pleaded.

She started to fade away. "Do this for me, Ichabod. I am lost to you. Please move on as I have given you this second chance. Love her as you loved me. This is my wish for you."

She was gone.

Ichabod spent the rest of the night in a dreamless sleep.

* * *

The next morning, Ichabod woke with a start.

_Had Katrina really come to me?_

He stood slowly and breathed in. He realized he couldn't feel her anymore, couldn't feel their connection. He slumped his shoulders briefly.

_Goodbye Katrina._

Then he straightened them. She had given him the chance he needed, the chance to love another woman and not feel guilty about it. Although he wanted his wife with him now, he realized she was right. Katrina was his past and Abbie was his future. And the way she made him feel was like nothing he had ever known.

_I must get in touch with Abbie._

He walked back out into the dining area and picked up his phone. It was not a "smartphone" as Abbie had described. It only had a few features on it. But it was enough for Ichabod to learn on. He flipped the phone opened and checked for messages.

Nothing.

Now he was getting worried. They had had spats before, but they never went a whole night without conversing. A growing feeling began gnawing at him that something wasn't right.

Putting the phone in his pocket, he grabbed the metal object on a ring and stepped outside. He figured he would go to the police station first and see if she was there. The walk wasn't too far and he could use the time to sort through everything that had transpired overnight.

Katrina was sentenced to purgatory for her sins. What she did was bad, but her love for Ichabod and her other friends was enough to not trap her in hell for all time.

Ichabod growled a bit at the thought of Katrina giving birth. It had all been revealed about six months ago that he wasn't the father, Moloch was. Katrina was part of the Dark Coven and they worshipped Moloch. She had spared Ichabod this information because she had really and truly loved him and wanted to protect him. But the Hessian was Moloch's reply.

She was _his_ wife. And the boy that Abbie had seen in her vision was a demon; born on the darkest of days. He was sent to the otherworld with Moloch shortly after that but Katrina was to remain behind to finish her work. That didn't last long as she was burned at the stake.

Moloch realized she was still in love with Ichabod and expelled her to purgatory, where she would remain indefinitely. She had a change of heart and tried to help Ichabod and Abbie through the year with clues to some of the horrors of the apocalypse. Yet, she never bothered to tell her human husband what she really was.

It was that betrayal that Ichabod could not forgive, no matter how much he wanted to. He thinks that is when his feelings for Abbie revealed themselves to him.

_Katrina will pay for her sins and I will pay for mine. But she is not here in the flesh now and I am. I will move on, as she requested, because THAT is the way to defeat Moloch._

He arrived at the police station about thirty minutes later. He saw Morales glare at him as he passed by. Ichabod snickered. He was not the only one who was jealous.

Ichabod walked over to where Abbie's desk was. But she wasn't there. He looked around and then over to Captain Irving's office in case she was in there. Nothing.

Irving saw Ichabod and motioned for him to come in.

Upon entering his office, Irving spoke. "I have not seen Lieutenant Mills, Professor," he said, gesturing for Ichabod to have a seat. "She has not been in all day and has not made contact with us."

That gnawing feeling was growing stronger by the second.

"Have you any thoughts as to where she is, captain?"

Irving shrugged. "Did you try her apartment?"

Ichabod shook his head.

"Try there next."

Ichabod noticed the bags under Irving's eyes; he hadn't slept either.

"What's troubling you?" he asked.

Irving looked at him. "It's unlike the lieutenant to not make contact if she's not coming in. I fear something has happened to her."

Ichabod nodded. "I have the same feeling."

Irving stood up. "Try her place. Maybe she's sleeping off a hangover."

_I doubt that,_ Ichabod thought.

He shook the captain's hand and walked out of the station. Hailing a cab, he blurted out the directions to Abbie's apartment and the car sped off.

As the scenery passed before him, Ichabod's head filled with worry.

_What if she's sick? What if she's injured? What if I will never get to tell her how I feel?_

He shuddered at that thought.

The cab pulled up and he handed him some money. Stepping out of the vehicle, Ichabod climbed the steps to the lobby. He noticed someone had propped the secure door open and was hauling in products for vending machines.

_The fact that people pay for food that rots their teeth is reprehensible._

Sneaking past the front desk clerk, Ichabod climbed the three flights of stairs to Abbie's floor. He stood outside of her door and took a deep breath before knocking.

Silence.

He knocked again, a little louder this time. He didn't want to wake her up if she was sleeping, but he _had_ to know if she was all right.

Silence.

The gnawing feeling was crushing him now.

He suddenly remembered a trick he saw in a movie once; where someone jimmied a lock by using a credit card. Ichabod did not have one, but he did have a library card. Abbie had managed to pull some strings at the Sleepy Hollow library and get him set up with a library account.

_Is there anything she CAN'T do?_

He pulled the card out of his wallet, a gift from the lieutenant, and tried to jimmy the door. The first two times it didn't work, but it did on the third and he smirked.

_Not bad for an "old" man._

Ichabod slowly pushed the door open and stepped inside gingerly. He did not know what he was going to see. His eyes adjusted to the darkness and he knew instantly that Abbie had not been there. The apartment had recently been cleaned and her laptop was sitting on the kitchen table closed. Taking a moment, he walked through the apartment, not knowing what to find, but finding something that would tell him his soul mate was alright.

Nothing.

Slowly, he made his way out of the apartment complex and back onto the street. He hailed another cab and rode in silence back to the police station. He pulled out his phone.

No messages.

"Abbie, this is Ichabod. I am really worried about you. I know you are angry with me and I am sorry. _Please_ just call me back to confirm you are okay. We can work everything else out later."

After exiting the cab, he began walking back to the cabin, again wanting time to think.

_Why did Katrina tell me about the spell she put on me? And why now? Should I pursue Abbie? Or let someone else have her?_

Ichabod growled lowly at that thought.

He arrived home and opened the door. The sole of his boot stepped on something soft and he looked down. He gasped as he bent down to retrieve the item. Chills ran down his spine as he realized that the woman he loved was in trouble, serious trouble. He fingered the item.

It was a piece of cloth.

_Abbie's uniform._

* * *

**A/N:** Poor Ichabod. He really does have trouble adjusting to modern life. I guess we all would if given the same circumstances.

Do you think Katrina's actions are sincere in this story? Or is it a ruse? Can Ichabod trust ANYONE?

Feel free to read and review!


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** I apologize for the delay in updating. I am hoping that the start of the new year will mean more time to write.

Enjoy!

* * *

"It's been a week, Jenny. I cannot fathom how Abbie must be," Ichabod said. They were in the cabin, the sun rising and setting Ichabod's hair aglow. He had bags under his eyes from the lack of sleep.

_I pray she is not dead._

He tried not to think that. Katrina would have told him if that were to happen. She would not have given him the okay to pursue Abbie only to have his heart ripped out again, would she?

_This is coming from the same woman who lied to you about being a witch. And had a demon baby. This is NOT the woman you know._

And yet, it was. Ichabod knew that Katrina would not deliberately try and hurt him. He had a feeling that she knew Abbie was alive and that was all he needed to keep him going.

"You look like hell," Jenny responded to him. Ever since the captain had called her letting her know of Abbie's disappearance, she had been on a mad hunt to find her sister. Even with all of their differences and their fighting, she did still love Abbie. And the thought that someone would have her and hurt her made her see red.

Jenny was ready for battle.

"Thanks Jenny," Ichabod said sarcastically. The twenty-first century was beginning to rub off on him. He was starting to use lingo and sarcasm in everyday life. Ever since Katrina released him from her, his dreams (when he slept) had turned from wholesome to x-rated. He was shocked and disgusted at himself for being that way, but he acknowledged that he was in looser times. And he had two-hundred-and-fifty years of sexual tension to get rid of.

Jenny stared at Ichabod. She had suspected for awhile now that he was in love with her sister, but seeing him today confirmed it. He was disheveled and had not slept for three days straight. He was trying to devote every minute to finding Abbie, but it was becoming too much.

Jenny knew he wasn't any good to her in this stage, so she suggested he get some sleep. As she suspected, he scoffed at the idea.

"Well, you're no good to me in this shape."

He reached into the pocket of his pants and pulled out the scrap of clothing. "I cannot sleep so long as I don't know where Abbie is." He threw the scrap on the table.

Jenny inhaled slowly. Seeing that scrap again reminded her that her sister was someplace hurting.

"Crane, you cannot do anything in your current condition. Do you know that you called me Katrina earlier?"

His eyes flew to hers. "I did?"

She nodded. "Yes. I said that we needed to wait until Captain Irving came back before we tried anything else and you said 'as you wish, Katrina.' It convinced me that you need to get some rest."

Ichabod's head tilted to the left. "Yes, you are right. I apologize for calling you my late wife's name. I shall rest at once." He rose from his chair and walked across the room. Right before he exited, he turned back to Jenny.

"Please let me know what Captain Irving has to say."

Jenny nodded.

He walked into the bedroom and kicked his boots off and climbed into bed. His muscles relaxed immediately and he was asleep within seconds. Abbie's beautiful face appeared and stayed with him during his three-hour nap.

Jenny used that time to strategize a new plan. They had scoured Sleepy Hollow from top to bottom and had no luck. She knew that Abbie was being hidden somewhere, probably in a walled up room like the one Crane had found.

She pulled out the map of Sleepy Hollow and laid it out on the kitchen table. She glanced to the bedroom door as Ichabod's soft snoring came through.

'_Bout time._

She had truly grown fond of Ichabod Crane and knew that her sister had fallen for him immensely, but his stubbornness got on her nerves. It was worse than Abbie's!

_It's almost as though they were predestined to be together._

Jenny laughed at that thought and bent over the map. She started crossing out the places she knew she had covered and circled the ones that Irving said he had covered. She was going to double-check them anyways. She was a skeptic and needed to see things with her own eyes when it came to police work.

She began to pull away when something caught her eye.

There, on the top of the map, about thirty miles from Sleepy Hollow, a building had been drawn. Jenny swore that it had not been on the map yesterday and more than that, the map was drawn in color. A rust color to be exact.

_Is that BLOOD?_

As she examined the stain, she realized it was the abandoned toy shop outside of Sleepy Hollow, the one that had been run out of business about fifty years ago. The owner was a woman who had been suspected of witchcraft and had left the area to avoid any police charges. No one wanted anything to do with the "witch's den," so the building remained empty all this time.

_This is getting weird._

She pulled out her book on Sleepy Hollow witches from the seventeenth century to the present because she wanted to know more about Katrina Crane. It had not escaped her notice that Ichabod didn't mention her much anymore and rarely commented about trying to free her. But that did not satiate her appetite from wanting to learn all about the witch that had born a demon baby. She sat cross-legged on the couch and the book fell open, having been used so much over the course of time.

Jenny became so engrossed in the book that she lost all track of time. Suddenly she heard the bedroom door clicked and Ichabod padded out, feet bare, and went straight to the kitchen. He opened up the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of water. Forgoing the lecture on how water should be free, he tore the lid off and downed the bottle.

Jenny watched, fascinated, as this gorgeous man did that. Although he was definitely not her type, she could see why her sister had fallen for him. He was handsome and he had a body to die for. With his head back, drinking the water, she saw his throat muscles constrict and found that a sudden turn on.

_THROAT muscles? What the hell is wrong with you, Mills?_

She shook her head and looked back down at her book.

Ichabod finished the water and threw the bottle into the sink. He had not realized how thirsty he had become; it was as though the nap had awakened his other senses as well. He felt slightly guilty for sleeping when his beloved was missing, but he knew Jenny was right. He could not function and that meant he was no good to anyone.

He walked over to the couch and sat on the opposite cushion. Jenny glanced up and smiled, before lowering her eyes back to the book. Ichabod's eyes followed.

"I do wish you would not read that," he said with annoyance in his voice. "You do not need to know anymore about Katrina than what I've told you."

"You're right," jenny said and turned the book so he could see the page she was on. "I was reading about Sabrina Archer, a modern-day witch. She had a toy shop just outside of Sleepy Hollow about fifty years ago but was run out of town when her secret was discovered."

He took the book and looked down at the picture. The woman was young, no more than thirty, with long blond hair and blue eyes. She was very pretty, but her eyes were sad.

"How did you come upon her?"

Jenny pointed to the map. "Apparently, her abandoned toy shop is on the map."

Feeling strange, Ichabod rose from the couch and walked to the table where the map was still sprawled out. He looked at the rust-colored design and frowned.

"I don't recall seeing this yesterday. Is that blood?!" Ichabod spun around, horror on his face.

Jenny shrugged, not wanting to cause any alarm. "Don't know."

A car pulled up and stopped by Jenny's. Ichabod went to the window and saw Captain Irving emerge from the driver's side. He walked around to the passenger's side and pulled a computer case from the car. Then he started walking towards the cabin.

And suddenly, Ichabod knew.

* * *

**A/N: **Thanks, as always, for reading. Have a Merry Christmas for those who celebrate and for those who don't, happy Hump Day!


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